


Morale

by euphorbic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Arm Wrestling, Body Part Kinks, M/M, Post-Chapter 49, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphorbic/pseuds/euphorbic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is not one to find shame in ulterior motives when he instigates an arm wrestling match between Erwin and two other members of the Recon Corp. Others might think it's a play to boost morale, but really it's just another opportunity for him to perv on Erwin's physique.<br/> </p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <i>(Inspired by prompts at the SnK kink meme with spoilers for chapter 49 of the manga.)</i><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Morale

**Author's Note:**

> A slight combination of two different prompts at the SnK kink meme concerning chapter 49: arm worship (despite loss of limb) and Erwin coping with the loss of his arm. Honestly, I just wanted to write something upbeat where he survives, while I wait three more days for chapter 50.
> 
> This version is _far_ more polished than what I wrote at the kink meme.

Levi’s money is on Erwin, but when has it not been? When he made his first challenge to the room, everyone was too uncomfortable to meet his or Erwin’s eyes despite several rounds of vine. Levi’s loud wager ushered in hushed voices and fidgeting. But Levi has never been anything but loud, outspoken, and merciless. Beside him Erwin had swung his jacket off his shoulders, placed it on the back of a chair, and took a seat.

So Levi had barked again, “You guys are a bunch of fucking cowards. I’ll place a month’s pay on the commander against any two of you.”

Hange had been game. She met Levi’s eyes with a single nod and grabbed Eren by the back of the jacket. He yelped, eyes wide, as she dragged him from Armin, Mikasa, and what was left of the 104th. “You’re on! But I don’t want money, I want you to help me with some of my experiments.”

Eren had dropped his gaze and said he didn’t want anything. Levi had snorted and said if Eren lost the 104th would be mucking the horses’ stalls everyday for a month and if he won, he’d do it himself.

Now, not Levi, nor anyone else, can take their eyes off the match. It’s gone on far longer than anyone anticipated. Despite still-healing injuries, Erwin doesn’t seem the least bit diminished and that, more than him taking on two opponents (one who can manifest a titan and one wily enough to study them) has everyone in the room pushing forward. There’s a crowd of increasingly excited Recon soldiers pressing around the table where the simple contest of strength is taking place.

The fingers of Eren’s left hand lay over Hange’s, his palm presses to the the back of hers. Hange’s hand is swallowed between Erwin’s huge mitt and Eren’s slim one. Erwin’s hand is large enough that his calloused fingers easily dig into the back of Eren’s hand rather than Hange’s. Eren’s skin is dimpled where Erwin’s fingers are digging in with the fierness of his grip.

Sweat drips down Eren’s forehead as he adds his strength to Hanges. Hange whoops with glee despite the obvious tremble in her forearm. Erwin has a determined expression and a confident smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. The crowd continues to liven up; no longer uncomfortable they cheer and heckle as Hange and Eren try their best to overturn Erwin’s arm.

Erwin is beginning to sweat, his arm shakes with strain, but the fire in his expression is pure defiance. Levi doesn’t concern himself with that light, he’s watching something far more profane; the beauty of Erwin’s musculature. It is, of course, his doing; he rolled Erwin’s sleeves up himself just so he could better appreciate the show.

And a show it is. Part of Levi's plan is to pump up soldier morale and pride in their commander, but the greater portion of the contest is for Levi's personal gratification. That much is obvious when Erwin throws a quick glance Levi’s way and Humanity’s Strongest sees in that brief, pointed glance that Erwin is holding back. He’s prolonging the spectacle because he knows Levi loves to watch the display; the coiled muscles clothed just beneath Erwin’s scar-clad skin.

Levi studies the tendons at Erwin’s wrist as they stand up, like the garrison’s rails on top of the walls. He moistens his lips at the slide of muscles along Erwin’s forearm, the exquisite bunch of his bicep, the flex of his tricep, the hint of deltoid straining against the precisely rolled material of his sleeve. Levi’s eyes shift to observe the cotton of Erwin’s dress shirt as it strains to contain the symphony of muscle that comprises the broad sweep of Erwin’s chest.

Levi bites the inside of cheek when a light sheen of sweat begins to collect on Erwin’s scarred forearm. It collects in the crease where his bicep and forearm meet and trickles down on either side of his bony elbow. Levi is conflicted with smoldering desire and revulsion by the sight; he only allows the revulsion make it to his face but he feels animal lust kindle in his loins, tightening and tingling his balls.

“Eren, where’s your titan strength?” Hange laughs in wild delight the second their joined hands begin to bow back over their wrists. “Don’t hold back!”

“If you assholes hold back,” Levi snorts, though he isn’t looking at them, “I’ll be fucking offended.”

“Seconded,” Erwin murmurs through grit teeth. His right knee has come up under the table to counterbalance the force he’s exerting with his left arm.

“I’m not holding back!” Eren protests. The kid’s face is a study of strain and awe. Levi knows Erwin can end it whenever he likes, but he thinks perhaps Erwin is playing the long game; that of seducing Levi by displaying raw, physical power. For all he accuses Erwin of a size kink, Levi can’t for the life of him honestly say he doesn’t have one of his own.

“The bunch of you look like you’re trying to pass the world’s biggest shit,” Levi snorts. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

It is in that same breath that Hange’s elbow slips on the table. Erwin capitalizes on the moment; he exhales hard and hooks his hand in further and, with a flex of his powerful arm, shoves down hard. Eren curses and Hange makes a comedic expression of surprised pain as both their wrists flex back awkwardly. A moment later the back of Eren’s hand slams against the table with a pronounced bang.

The rec hall erupts in wild cheers, shouts of ‘danchou!’ reverberate off the stone walls, and money and bottles of vine change hands. Those brave enough to do so slap proudly at Erwin’s left shoulder; not all the liquid courage in the world is enough to get anyone to so much as jostle his right.

Hange and Eren both rub their left arms; something Levi looks forward to doing for Erwin later tonight. Hange’s grin is no less wild for losing and Eren’s expression is full of a happily rekindled hero worship. The latter makes Levi want to hurl, but it’s worth it; worth seeing everyone’s confidence restored in Erwin’s physicality. And, of course, there’s no harm in goading a match that provides Levi the visual feast of Erwin’s arm. In fact, he finds a certain appreciative glee in rolling Erwin’s left sleeve up for him. Erwin might be down to one, but on the whole he hasn’t been lessened for it.

 


End file.
